


A Habit of You

by elliebird



Series: Previously Posted Roswell, New Mexico Fic (2019) [3]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Coda, Episode Tag, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:47:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22766497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliebird/pseuds/elliebird
Summary: A coda/fix it for episode 1x03
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: Previously Posted Roswell, New Mexico Fic (2019) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636822
Comments: 13
Kudos: 82





	A Habit of You

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted 01.31.19

His pillow smells like Alex. 

His phone says it’s 2:44am and Michael is wide awake in the bed that smells like the only person he’s ever fallen in love with. He’s still wearing the scent of smoke and the perfume of the woman he spent twenty seconds considering taking home from the Wild Pony, after leaving the drive-in in search of trouble and distraction. 

He’s naked beneath the sheet, hard and restless. He’s been replaying last night, like a masochist. Where Alex Manes is concerned, he still can’t help himself. 

The sex was always good between them. They were just idiot teenagers fumbling through it all together but it was always hot and intense and a little desperate. Sex as adults with ten years spent apart was as close to mind blowing as Michael has come since he took Alex’s virginity the night of winter formal. 

He closes his eyes, thinking about the way Alex looked up at him with a flush spreading down his chest and those big ole fuck me eyes that Michael’s never been able to resist. Alex has always been so fucking closed off from the rest of the world, yet always willing to give himself over to Michael in their intimate moments, incapable of holding himself back. 

Alex at twenty-seven is harder. There’s a haunted look in his eyes, a wild difference from the light that reflected out of him in high school. There’s pain in how changed he is. There are still hints of the old Alex, though. In bed, where he’s always let his guard down some, he was very nearly the same open, giving kid he was when Michael was falling for him the first time. 

In Michael’s tiny bed last night, he still clung to Michael, arched against him, begged wordlessly. When he came, he pulled Michael close like he was trying to get all of him, as deep as he could. When Michael pushed into him for the first time, he still made the same soft sound with his pretty pink lips parted and eyes bright, still touched Michael with the same restless energy like he was frustrated he couldn’t get enough. 

And then when it was over, just like he’d always done, he retreated.No one’s ever been quite as good as Alex Manes at pushing people away. 

Michael gives in. He shoves the sheet down his thighs, shifts his hips and curls his good hand around his dick. Thinking about Alex’s eyes on him when he came, the fucking sound he made when Michael fucked in deep until there was no place else to go, every detail from last night and Michael’s going to blow in minutes like a horny teenager. 

It’s fucking _good_. From the balls of his feet, up the back of his thighs, pleasure lights him up from the inside out. He’s hoping for a good, hard orgasm so he can pass the fuck out and quit thinking about Alex Manes for a goddamn minute. 

There’s a loud banging on the door and Michael freezes. _What the fuck_.  
He doesn’t move. It’s three am. If he ignores it, hopefully whoever decided to come out to the junkyard at this hour will take the hint and leave. After twenty seconds, the banging picks up again. 

Michael curses out loud. “Hang on,” he calls out. He gets out of bed, feeling aggravated down to his core. There’s nothing more awkward than answering the door with a boner. He stuffs himself into the same jeans he spent the evening in and pushes the door open. 

Alex takes a surprised step back, leaning heavily on his cane. Michael’s so surprised to see him he forgets how entirely inappropriate he must look, flushed and sweaty and hard. 

“Oh god, you’re not alone.” All of the expectation dissolves from Alex’s face. He looks both horrified and embarrassed. 

Michael lets him jump to the wrong conclusion for a few awkward seconds and then says with a derisive shake of his head aimed at himself, “Alex, there’s no one else.” 

Alex’s eyes widen, surprise and relief softening the tension around his mouth. His eyes drift downwards, from Michael’s chest, his stomach and settle briefly at the unmistakable outline of his cock. 

Michael bites back a smile and leans, insolent and lazy, against the doorframe, enjoying Alex’s eyes on him and the discomfort he’s struggling against. Alex has always been somewhat standoffish about sex outside of the act. 

When Alex makes no move to explain himself, Michael says, “you wanna tell me what you’re doing here?” 

Resignation settles around Alex. He hesitates. 

“I don’t sleep well,”Alex tells him like it’s hard to say the words out loud. His eyes flicker away and downward, the way they always do when he can’t quite handle the truth of what he’s saying. 

“I hadn’t slept through the night since...” he trails off, leaning more fully on his cane. He shakes his head ruefully like he’s frustrated with himself, his teeth digging into his lower lip. “Until last night.” 

He looks both ten years younger and a lifetime older, standing in the darkness. 

_Don’t do it, Guerin_. 

Michael gives in because where Alex is concerned, he’ll always give in eventually. Maybe someday he’ll stop letting his heart make such poor fucking decisions. 

He steps away from the doorframe and holds the door wide. 

Alex’s head bows for a second, eyes slipping shut, tension in his shoulders dissolving into something that looks a lot like relief. 

Michael locks the door behind him and turns to face Alex. 

Michael never stood a chance with Alex back in town once he showed up at the ranch. All Alex has to do is fucking look at him like that with those big heartbreaking eyes, all of his want on display, and Michael’s completely gone. 

Alex stands in the middle of the space, looking small. “I -” 

“Don’t,” Michael says quietly, taking a step toward Alex. “We just end up saying shit we can’t take back.” He runs his palms down Alex’s arms, over the bare skin beneath his t-shirt. 

Alex’s eyes slip closed, a soft sound spilling out. 

“Want to see if I can tire you out a little?’ Michael says, dropping his voice flirtatiously, full of innuendo because it’s so much safer than saying something honest he won’t be able to back out of. He leans in. Alex is soft like this, in just his t-shirt and sweatpants. He smells like the cologne he had on earlier, like generic grocery store soap and laundry detergent. 

Michael rests his hand beneath the hem of Alex’s t-shirt where his skin is sleep-warm. Alex shivers. He covers Michael’s hand with his own, dragging it up his torso, letting it rest against his racing heart. He lets his cane fall to the floor with a clatter and reaches for Michael with his hand tucked in the waist of his jeans. 

Michael has always been the one in control, the aggressor between the two of them but god he loves when Alex gives in and takes what he wants. He slides his hand up the hard planes of Michael's stomach, his chest and pulls Michael close with his fingers in the sweaty curls at the base of his skull. 

Michael laughs against Alex’s lips. “There’s my boy,” he says, going for playful to hide the absolute rawness he feels suddenly. 

The kiss is fire. Alex opens his mouth to Michael and the sound he makes, low and hungry, makes 

Michael slide an arm around his waist and haul him close. At the press of his hardon against his belly, Alex groans and arches against him. It’s so fucking sexy Michael feels disoriented. 

He eases them in the direction of the bed. Sex between them isn’t as simple now. Michael can’t just push Alex onto his hands and knees like he used to, or roll to his back and urge Alex to ride him. 

He doesn’t hover - Alex would tear him apart if he tried - instead tries to be as unobtrusive as possible as Alex settles himself. Michael can’t look away from him, from the proof of how he’s spent the last decade of his life. He’s broader across his chest, stronger in his torso and all of the scars of war he wears on his body just enhances how sexy he is. 

Alex watches him drag his jeans down his thighs, his cock hard and jutting against his belly. The absolute hunger there is nearly enough to make Michael shoot his load given how close he was before Alex knocked at his door. 

“Fuck, the way you look at me,” Michael mutters with a shake of his head.  
Alex gives a smile that’s shy at the edges with a hungry heat at its core. “I like the way you look.” 

Michael climbs over him to settle on his side and Alex rolls to meet him immediately. He reaches for him with the same urgency racing through Michael. 

Michael cups Alex’s cheek. “What do you want tonight?” 

Alex grips Michael’s wrist and leans into his touch. His head falls back, lips parted, overwhelmed from Michael’s hand on him. It hits Michael hard just how fucked both of them are over each other. “Just kiss me please,” Alex whispers. The _please_ is desperate and aching. 

Michael rolls them over, covers Alex and gives him exactly what he’s asking for. 

Alex melts into him from the word go, sliding an arm around Michael’s neck, arching up to plaster as much of his overheated skin against Michael as he can. 

Michael kisses Alex until they’re breathless and frantic to come, until he can feel Alex leaking pre- come all over his belly. When Alex is just the right side of desperate and on edge, Michael fumbles for a condom. He braces his weight on his bad hand and quickly rolls the condom on one-handed. 

Michael catches Alex’s expression. “What?” 

Alex bites his lip, years of memories plain in his eyes. He gives a small, fond smile. “You’ve gotten better at that,” he says slyly. 

It’s mischievous, so reminiscent of seventeen-year-old Alex that nostalgia closes its fist around Michael’s heart. 

“Fuck you,” Michael says around the tightness in his throat. “I was a stud.” 

The far-away look in Alex’s eyes fades a little, bringing him back to the present. He lifts his head off the pillow and gives Michael a soft kiss. 

“Well come on then, stud,” he whispers, palming Michael’s cheek. “What are you waiting for?” 

Michael groans. 

He gets himself slicked up with lube, mindful of the fact that he didn’t take easy it on Alex last night. He smears his wet fingers between Alex’s thighs, shuddering when the first slips inside all that tight, clenching heat. 

He still remembers doing this for the first time. They’d been fooling around and dancing around any mention of _feelings_ for several months. Michael hadn’t a clue what the hell he was doing but Alex had looked at him with fond amusement. _I promise I want this, Guerin_ , he’d said. _Now hurry the fuck up_. 

Michael forces himself to focus on _this_ Alex. There’s nothing to be gained from lingering on those memories. 

A turned-on Alex is one of the sexiest sights Michael has seen in his twenty-eight years, and he’s been around. He’s watching Michael with hooded eyes and a wet, kiss-sore mouth, a pretty flush on his skin and his hair a mess from Michael’s hands. He’s sexier than he was at seventeen and Michael would bet every dollar he has that Alex hasn’t a clue the effect he has on him 

Alex’s eyes drift closed, wet lips parting on a gasp, when Michael positions the head of his cock against his asshole. 

Alex reaches for him and Michael is helpless. He positions himself so he can cover Alex with his weight, forcing himself deeper as pleasure curls through him from the base of his spine through his bones. Alex gasps and clings to Michael’s shoulders. He’s shaking. It’s not pain - he shifts his hips _up_ , in search of more, and that is too fucking much for Michael. He fits his mouth to Alex’s, gets one hand beneath his shoulders to haul him close and fucks in deep. 

“Oh fuck,” Alex gasps into Michael’s mouth with a tormented noise that eggs Michael on. He alters his rhythm, fucking in shallowly until Alex is panting, gasping against Michael's lips before tightening his arms around Alex’s shoulders and pushing in hard until his hips are pressed tight against Alex’s. 

It’s a matter of pride that Alex comes first. Michael’s too fucking close to last much longer. He hangs in, sliding his hand into Alex’s hair. 

“Come on, baby,” he says into Alex’s mouth, remembering what a soft touch Alex always was for an endearment. 

Alex’s eyes fly open and he comes hard all over his stomach. Michael knocks his forehead against Alex’s, burrows in deep and before Alex has caught his breath, comes hard with a muffled curse. 

Alex hangs onto Michael, arms around his back, hands sliding over his skin as Michael steadies himself. It’s quiet between them as Michael pulls out carefully and ties off the condom. 

Later, when they’ve cleaned up and Michael is on the verge of sleep, Alex rolls to his side. He kisses Michael’s shoulder, tracing the scar he got when he was eleven and fell out of the tree in the Evans’ backyard. 

“Guerin,” he says, a question in it. 

“Hmm?” Michael mumbles sleepily. 

“Don’t let me go.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I'm on [Tumblr](https://elliebirdthings.tumblr.com/)


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